


Not How It Was Supposed To End

by CelestialSpace



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Asphyxiation, Character Death, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied Feelings, Implied Relationships, M/M, Major Character Injury, Shiro - Freeform, Shiro's arm is out of control, graphic description of death, helpless keith, keith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 10:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13739397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialSpace/pseuds/CelestialSpace
Summary: Shiro has started loosing control of his Galra arm; the prosthetic has started moving as if it has a mind of its own. The metal appendage is attached to Shiro but, in the beginning, Keith faces the brunt of its wrath. When the arm finally snaps nothing can be done and it can't be stopped. This is not how it was supposed to end.





	Not How It Was Supposed To End

**Author's Note:**

> Note that there is a major character death in this fic so if that isn't for you, you might not want to read.

Keith turns to look at Shiro when he hears him grunt in agitation. The taller man was gripping his Galran arm tightly by the wrist as the fingers of it spasm out of Shiro’s control. -This has been happening more often lately; it started off with just the fingers. Out of nowhere the metal digits would twitch and curl, sometimes they would even attempt to grab onto something. Shiro would always scowl in confusion but didn’t dare look at any of the other paladins to see their expressions. Everyone tried to write it off for the longest time, pretend like nothing was wrong, but it only got worse.

The worst incident was when they realized that the arm had more control than they thought. It was early in the morning with only Keith and Shiro being awake, training was scheduled for later so the rest of the paladins decided to sleep in. It was just the two of them so Keith sat down by Shiro rather than in his usual seat. Neither of them said much, both too interested in choking down the green goo to try to converse so early in the morning. Shiro had just lowered his spoon back to the bowl when his hand spasmed and sent the spoon skittering across the table, flecks of green goo dotting the shiny surface. 

Shiro’s eyes followed the spoon before he turned sharply to look down at the hand in alarm as it slammed down onto the top of the table with the palm flat. They remained frozen as the sound of metal on metal rung out through the room and waited with baited breath to see if it would move again. Shiro and Keith moved at the same time, their eyes meeting briefly when they both reached a hand towards the metal one. Shiro hesitated when Keith didn’t; Keith’s hand had closed the distance between them and inched closer to touch the metal hand with a single finger. 

Time slowed as warm flesh had met cold metal. In the instant they touched the appendage whipped around and grasped Keith’s hand in the circle of his long fingers. The large hand completely engulfed Keith’s much smaller one as his mouth dropped open in surprise. The hand did nothing for a moment, simply just holding onto Keith firmly. They looked at each other in alarm but neither really knew what to do at this point. 

“I-I’m trying to move it but it’s not listening.” Shio’s panic rose but Keith wasn’t overly concerned; but that quickly changed. The hand seemed to flex experimentally, each finger tightened its grip around Keith’s hand in turn. “Keith.” At his name, the younger man tried to pull himself out of the others grasp but the hand clamped down tighter, as gears whirred quietly at the sudden movement. Keith finally felt his own panic welling as he tried to pull away again only for his hand to be squeezed even tighter than before. 

As the metal digits curled tighter and tighter around Keith’s hand a loud pop could be heard and it was followed by a soft noise of pain. That noise pulled at Shiro’s heart and finally broke him out of his daze. His other hand moved lightning quick to grab the metal wrist in a tight hold that had began to become increasingly familiar. Keith whimpered at the ever-tightening hold on his hand but knew Shiro couldn’t force the hand away without hurting him more. 

A loud crack filled the room as Keith cried out and his free hand scrambled to hold onto Shiro’s forearm. Blunt nails dug into flesh which made Shiro hiss as he tried to squeeze his own wrist harder to force it to let go. Multiple cracks and pops were heard as the silver appendage finally crushed Keith’s hand completely; the little bit of fingertips that could be seen through the other side of Shiro’s hand were horribly discolored and misshapen. 

When the hand had finally released him, he quickly pulled it to his chest, curling defensively over the mangled limb. Shiro kept his hold on the wrist but leaned closer to Keith to try and see the damage that he had done. Keith had turned his body away from Shiro to shield his hand from view but looked up to meet his eyes, “Shiro, it’s okay I promise; it’s not that bad.” He had tried to keep his voice steady but knew he wasn’t successful, especially with silent tears still running down his face. 

After that, Keith had been forced into a healing pod since he was unable to use that hand in any capacity- Keith is starlted from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He blinks away the memory to find that Shiro is now standing in front of him with a worried expression. Neither of them say anything but they smile at each other before continuing on. When Shiro’s flesh arm drops back to his side Keith is reminded that since the incident Shiro had refused to touch him with his prosthetic. 

The thought keeps swirling around his head as he lags slightly behind the older man. He takes in the stiff set of Shiro’s shoulders and the unnatural way he’s holding his arm. That’s the only warning he gets before the arm goes berserk. The arm suddenly swings upward in a blur of silver and Keith can’t see what’s happening around Shiro’s broad shoulders. A choked-off noise reaches Keith’s ears but he’s already striding forward and closing the distance between them. Keith lunges around Shiro to stand before him and he’s shocked by the sight that greets him. 

The black fingers have wrapped themselves around Shiro’s throat, the digits constricting his breathing. Keith remains frozen a beat too long; Shiro collapses to his knees as his flesh hand claws at the metal wrist and forearm. Keith closes in on him and wraps one hand around the wrist and his other hand on the inside of the bicep and pulls. The arm doesn’t budge as the fingertips only curl tighter around Shiro’s throat. 

Red rises in a wave up Shiro’s face as he finally looks up at Keith. Their eyes meet, the once warm silver now dull as it’s surrounded by red. His lips fall open slightly wider as a thin stream of air whistles down closing esophagus; the lips that used to be pink are now gaining a blue hue. Keith grabs the metal hand by the fingers as he attempts to pry the fingers apart and give Shiro a moment of relief. 

Keith is wrenched forward when Shiro finally collapses onto his back and he’s forced to fall to a knee to catch himself. The Galran hand suddenly releases its hold on Shiro only to twist around and latch itself onto Keith’s throat. His hands immediately go to the wrist as he desperately tries to pull it away from himself. Below him, Shiro gasps like a fish out of water, his lips widening before almost closing repeatedly but the damage has already been done. There’s a solid band of red around Shiro’s exposed throat but the odd shape of his neck is obvious; a whistling sound can be heard with every shaky inhale from parted lips. 

Keith begins clawing at the unforgiving metal but the limb doesn’t move. Keith knows he’s getting dizzy as the world sways around him and darkness creeps in on the edge of his vision. His body twitches as it desperately tries to fight for air. On instinct, Keith’s right hand extends out to his side and his bayard moves into his hand. Keith knows his sword has appeared when he feels the weight of it suddenly pull down his hand and his fist is dipped forward towards where the blade will be. 

The movement is practiced and familiar. His arm rears up over his head and then he brings it down with finality. Distantly, Keith hears his sword connect when finally he can breathe. Keith doubles over with his elbows on the ground as he gasps, his lungs greedily sucking in as much oxygen as they can manage. When his breathing finally slows his eyes snap up to land on Shiro. 

His gaze is immediately drawn to the dismembered appendage, the arm now laying lifeless and eerily still on the grass. He stares in horror at the blood he sees splattering the grass, and the ring of flesh connected to the end of the metal. He drags his eyes to Shiro. The older man hasn’t moved in the time that Keith has been fighting for his own life. His chest barely rises and falls as his breathing gets shallower and slower. 

A sob wracks Keith’s body as he finally takes in Shiro’s right arm -well- where his right arm used to be. Keith had missed his mark. Rather than cutting through the metal, Keith had aimed too high and had severed the arm at the flesh instead. It’s a clean cut but blood pours out of the raw stump. Keith looks desperately around himself for something to staunch the bleeding but with the both of them in paladin armor he has nothing at hand. He has to make do. 

Keith pulls Shiro up into his lap and rests Shiro’s head in the crook of his right elbow. The arm pillowing Shiro holds onto him tightly as his other hand presses against the exposed wound that is his arm. The glove does nothing to stop the bleeding, the black material quickly soaks up the warm liquid before it allows more blood to flow past. Tears blur his vision as he watches Shiro’s lifeblood slip through his fingers. 

A different wheeze catches his attention and Keith looks down and makes eye contact with Shiro. Shiro’s eyes are clouding over, the busted blood vessels in his eyes circling the now-dull grey of his iris. A teardrop rolls down off Keith’s face to land on Shiro’s cheek; the droplet crawls down Shiro’s face to slide off his chin. The corners of Shiro’s lips twitch up making the smallest of smiles before he takes in one last shuddering breath and stops. With a wail Keith curls around Shiro to press their foreheads together. 

Keith remains hunched there crying, watching Shiro’s eyes go cold and dry, feeling the warmth seep from his body as it stiffens, and feels the once-warm blood continues to drip past his hand. And that’s how the other paladins find them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! If I missed anything that I need to tag please tell me!
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or a kudos, or you can come yell at me here [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/cosmosmoose) or here [Twitter](https://twitter.com/KristenRandall)


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